


you better get to livin' (better get to livin' right)

by amosanguis



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Benncest, Brief Graphic Violence, Dallas Stars, Jordie-Centric, Light Angst, M/M, OTP: a captain and his brother, short scenes, title from a country song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:43:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5499161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jordie separates the people he knows into Jamie and Not Jamie and, really, he probably should’ve realized a long time ago that that wasn't healthy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you better get to livin' (better get to livin' right)

**Author's Note:**

> \--Title from "Dirt Road" by Kip Moore  
> \--Non-canon fights, handwaving schedules

-z-

 

Jordie separates the people he knows into Jamie and Not Jamie and, really, he probably should’ve realized a long time ago that that wasn't healthy.

 

-x-

 

“Let’s get out of here,” the woman leaning on him says.  He doesn’t remember her name just that she’s blond and she’s beautiful, but she’s Not Jamie.

“I’m tired,” he says.

She looks like she wants to say something else – but then Jordie is slowly untangling himself from her because Jamie is moving towards the door of the bar, throwing just the one glance needed over his shoulder for Jordie to know how this night is going to end.

 

-

 

Jamie leans in close, whispers, “Jordie, please,” and Jordie’s knees go weak and his breath hitches in his chest – and Jordie is long lost.

 

-x-

 

Jordie remembers the first time he saw someone else touch his brother – sidling in close and brushing hard against him.  Jordie remembers the rage, the hot jealousy that spread across his chest and settled deep in his gut. 

He remembers the way Jamie had rolled his eyes at the person before he looked up – met Jordie’s eyes across the too crowded room, a look filled with _heat_ and _want_ and _no going back_.  It wasn’t long after that that Jordie had Jamie alone in a locked room and was sinking to his knees.

 

-x-

 

“What do you want?” Jordie asks, mouthing the words against Jamie’s neck.

“Everything,” Jamie answers, his hips bucking upwards.  “I want the world.”

“Anything else?” Jordie asks with a snort, punctuated by a sharp nip.

Jamie gasps, digs his fingers into the back of Jordie’s neck and pulls him down for a bruising kiss.  He pulls away just long enough to say, “Fuck me.”

Jordie doesn’t hesitate.

 

-x-

 

Jordie had tried to stop it, once, when Jamie was leaving to start hockey in another province.  He’d said, “It’s okay if you see other people.”

Jamie had just laughed in his face before leaning in for a brutal, biting kiss.  “I’ll see you in a few months, Jordie,” he’d said.

 

-

 

No matter the distance or the hours between them – Jordie never tires of his brother; and Jamie never tires of him, never tries to look elsewhere.  Not even when he shoots up in height and his weight seems to redistribute itself.

 

-x-

 

“What do you think about Tyler?” Jordie asks, it’s late and they’re drunk and Jamie hasn’t touched him in the week since training camp started and Tyler Seguin arrived in Dallas – they’d taken to each other instantly.

“He’s cool,” Jamie answers with a shrug, his eyelids drooping, his beer bottle resting between his thighs.  “I like him.”

Jordie licks his lips, takes a breath, then asks, “How much?  How much do you like him?”

Jamie huffs a laugh as he his head lolls to the side.  “Don’t worry, brother,” he says.  “He’s pretty, but he’s not _that_ pretty.”

Jordie smirks, smug as he leans down and tongues at the bottle between Jamie’s legs.

 

-

 

Jordie sees the exact moment that Tyler figures out that Jamie’s not chasing after him – it makes him grin wide and fuck Jamie just that much harder.

(“Whatever’s gotten into you,” Jamie pants, “I fuckin’ love it.”)

 

-x-

 

They’re doing an interview for the Stars Insider program, each of them sequestered in their own stalls.  “If Jordie didn’t play hockey – what do you think he’d be doing?” Julie Dobbs asks.

Jamie laughs and looks over, says, “Probably whatever I’d be doing, I don’t know.”

Jordie laughs, too, because Jamie’s not wrong, knows that Jordie’d follow him to the end of the earth.

 

-

 

“What do you want for dinner?” Jordie asks as they walk through their door.

“Whatever I want, right?” Jamie asks with an exaggerated wink – referring to a question Jordie had been asked during the interview.

“Yes,” Jordie says answers with a nod, hooking a finger into Jamie’s pants and pulling him close.  “Whatever you want.”

 

-

 

“Do you think we’ll always be like this?” Jamie asks that night – his head on Jordie’s stomach as Jordie carded his fingers through Jamie’s hair.

“Playing on the same team?” Jordie asks.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, straightening so he could look at Jordie.

Jordie smirks, rubs a thumb over Jamie’s cheek, “Don’t worry,” he says.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Jamie says as he resettles himself on Jordie’s stomach.

Jordie smiles at the top of his brother’s head fondly before he feels his eyes beginning to droop.

 

-x-

 

Jordie takes Jamie’s hand, presses a soft kiss to the split open knuckles.  “You gonna take on everyone in the League who runs over one of your rookies?”

“If I have to,” Jamie says, he’s smirking but Jordie knows that he’s being absolutely serious.

“Maybe if you had rookies of your own, you’d understand,” Jamie says.

Jordie snorts, says, “I have enough to worry about with you.”  He presses another kiss to the knuckles, eyes the gash on Jamie’s cheek, before he moves away to begin work on dinner.  Jamie wants blueberry waffles tonight.

 

-

 

Jordie prides himself in having a level head out on the ice.  He prides himself in being able to simply grit his teeth and let Jamie fight his own battles – not that Jamie ever really needed his help, he was strong, capable – nothing now like how he’d been when he was young.

But when Dubinsky comes up from behind and crosschecks Jamie in the back of the head and Jamie just collapses – Jordie sees red.

He’d had one leg swung over the boards but then he’s pushing himself back onto the ice – skating hard and fast, shrugging Foligno off easy.

Dubinsky has only just enough time to look up before Jordie is on him, his gloves and helmet gone as he grabs a fist-full of Dubinsky’s jersey with one hand – and buries the other in his cheek once, twice, five times.

The punches, hard rights, are quick and powerful and Dubinsky never stood a chance.

Jordie feels his knuckles tearing, feels pain shooting up his arm, feels something warm on his face – all as hands grab at him and people shout his name.

Jordie knows that he’s yelling something, a litany of cuss words and promises of death, but he can’t quite hear the words.

Dubinsky is limp under his fist when they finally pull Jordie away, shove him down the tunnel.  He stands in the locker room, shaking and pacing and ignoring the drying blood on his hands and his face.

 

-

 

“He’s fine,” the doctor tells him, holding out a wet cloth for Jordie to take.  For a second, Jordie wonders if the doctor is talking about Jamie or Dubinsky.  The doctor seems to sense this, and adds, “They both are.  Your brother isn’t exhibiting any concussion symptoms yet – but there’s always the possibility that they’ll manifest later, so you’ll have to keep an eye on him.”

Jordie nods, watching his reflection carefully wipe the blood from his face.

 

-

 

“How’re you feeling?” Jordie asks.

“I’m fine,” Jamie snaps.  “I was fine fifteen minutes ago when you asked, and I was fine the fifteen minutes before that, and the fifteen minutes before that, and the—”

“I know,” Jordie interrupts, knowing when his brother was about to work himself up.  “I know, I know – I’m sorry.”

Jamie purses his lips, flips through the channels before he suddenly freezes.  Jamie’s somehow managed to find the one channel showing his fight on it.

“Why didn’t you stop?” Jamie asks after an uncomfortable silence hangs between them.

Jordie doesn’t lie, just says, “I didn’t want to.”

Jamie’s eyes are still on the television, nodding as he says, “I don’t think I would have either.”

 

-x-

 

Jordie has long since divided his world into Jamie and Not-Jamie; it’s not healthy, he knows, but it’s also the only way he cares to live.

 

-z-

 

End.


End file.
